


Something Beautiful

by Xyriath



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alchemy, Character Study, Everyone Is Alive, F/F, Healthy Polyamory, Open Marriage, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 04:44:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6038592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/pseuds/Xyriath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gracia’s alchemy has always been something special to her, an integral part of her being.  The problem is, when you’re transmuting furniture and cakes, no one else sees it that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> FMA Femslash Week, day 4, “Alchemy.” I’ve really loved the idea of Gracia as an alchemist for a while now, which I touched on in [Arm Candy](http://xyriath.tumblr.com/post/139264533777/arm-candy-ao3-pairing-royed-rating-pg-13) and expanded in here.

Gracia remembers the first time that she transmuted something beautiful.

She had been sixteen, a bit of a disappointment in school at that point—she listened to her teachers, of course, participated in class, but she never could bring herself to spend all that time on homework that she should have, not when it was just so... uninteresting.

She had other hobbies—distractions, her father called him.  Though loving, he was also very traditional, as was her mother.  This wouldn't have bothered her so much—after all, she didn't mind the thought of growing up, getting married, having children; quite enjoyed it, actually—if it hadn't been for _everything_ that the mindset came with.

"Alchemy is not a proper pursuit for a young lady," he had sighed.  "It's _difficult._  Most alchemists don't get to the point where they can actually transmute until they're in their twenties, and you'll be busy by then, probably with a son or daughter of your own.  And no man is going to want to marry a woman who spends more time on her science than him!  Men like to be the breadwinners; if you suddenly start studying ways to put him out of that role, he won't be happy, and there are just more opportunities for us."

Gracia had gritted her teeth and pushed away the alchemy books.  Not that she gave it up, of course.  She'd just have to surprise him.  A student in progress might not have good chances, but a full-fledged alchemist?   _That_ would impress anyone, regardless of how "traditional."

And so, when she had gotten to a point of her studies where she was sure she would succeed, she picked up her chalk and walked downstairs to where the family's dinner table was sitting.

It had likely once been a thing of beauty, but decades of use and multiple generations of Cunningham children, including Gracia and her brothers, had left it dented and dingy, and the fashion, she had learned years ago, was horrendously out of date to the point of tackiness.  Though she knew her parents would have undoubtedly liked to replace it, they weren't made of money, and as such, most of the décor in their house had fallen into similar levels of mismatch or repair.

But it was a good place to start, and she had known it from the moment she had started studying alchemy, had dove into studies about architecture and design and furniture making as well, the construction that went into each piece, and into houses and railings and bridges, and she had known what it was that she wanted to do.

She had waited until her parents were out, and as she drew the transmutation circle carefully on the surface, set the scraps of mahogany wood she had collected next to it, she hoped that she wouldn't mess anything up irreparably.

And when she placed her hands next to the circle and began the transmutation, suddenly everything felt _right._

—

Three years of study all fell completely into place as she dashed around the house with little bits of luxury that she had cobbled together, beaming as the old house finally began to look like something the Cunninghams would be _proud_ to live in.  The couch, formerly slightly threadbare and lumpy, was now plush and soft, and water stains that hadn't quite been in the budget to fix vanished, the peeling paint looking as it did when it was brand new.  She had a little bit of a mishap with a couple of the lamps, which were far too old and fragile to stand up to what she had in mind, but her parents had been talking about replacing them for ages, she told herself, slightly guiltily, as she swept the shards into the trash bin.

And when her parents finally walked through the door, she stood at her first and greatest transmutation, beaming at the way their eyes widened at the gleaming mahogany, the legs with attractive carvings that accented the new decorative molding on the kitchen.  It wasn't full mahogany, but with the way she had coated the table—and the chairs to match—it was impossible to just tell with the naked eye.

Their delight at her work left her beaming and blushing with pride as she excitedly showed them the changes she had made and rambled on about what she was hoping to do with the rest of the rooms.  They nodded and made pleased comments, her father inspecting the cabinets himself and declaring that he couldn't have found better at the finest woodworker in Central, her mother gasping with delight over the new dinnerware.

And when they were done, her father turned, patting her on the head.

"I'm sorry for what I said about this.  You should have told me that this was what you meant, Gracia.  This?  This will certainly get you a husband."  He let out a guffaw.  "And here I thought you meant you would be trying _real_ alchemy."

Gracia's smile froze, it and her heart feeling suddenly as brittle as the lamps she had shattered.  "I... sorry?"

Her mother nodded, looking pleased.  "Your father's right.  This is a wonderful hobby.  I'm glad you avoided anything too... serious."  She glanced over at her husband, and the indulgent look they shared suddenly made her wonder what, exactly, it had been that had gone through her parents' heads as they had congratulated her on her work.

Stammering out a thank you, she hugged them quickly, then stumbled back up the steps.

When she sat at her desk, she stared at the piles of books, bought with her precious allowance, on architecture, design, on lighting and environment and fabrics and color, juxtaposed next to Harrison Pope's "Basic Alchemy: Broken Down" and a few other supplementary texts.  All of them were well worn, some of the spines creased, dog-eared and scribbled in and highlighted.

Piling them on top of each other, she shoved them to a corner of her desk, pillowed her head on her crossed arms, and cried quietly.

—

Maes Hughes doesn't understand her alchemy, doesn't understand the years of strenuous work and education that she has put into this, but he swears that she _has_ to be some kind of genius for her cooking to be so good, and he seems genuinely impressed.  It's a nice change from the condescending near-leering most men shoot her when they say something similar, and she always regrets bringing them to her house then, hard-earned from the money of her business.  They find it quaint, she supposes, that a woman can make a living on event planning and interior decoration, but clearly her true purpose is in the kitchen, and she's only using it as a distraction until a proper man comes along to take her away from all of that and turn her into a good little housewife.

(The women she falls for, in contrast, always seem to be mildly disappointed that she would satisfy herself with such mundane tasks, seem to think that because they themselves are extraordinary and beautiful, Gracia must find some way to be so too, with her talent; must find some way to change the world.  She just wants to make pretty things, she tells them, but they sigh in a way that is different, but no less condescending, and Gracia wonders with a sick feeling if she still hasn't grown past being that sixteen-year-old girl.)

But Maes... Maes sets down his fork, looks around, and tells her that she's brilliant.

She takes a few minutes of convincing to believe that he means it, after all she's been told, but then he tells her, "Yeah, my roommate's an alchemist, and I've got a couple other friends who are, too!  I've got an idea of the kind of work that's gotta go into this stuff.  Not everything, of course; I know there's _way_ more behind the scenes.  But I see the work they do!"

And it's such a sweet relief, to hear for the first time that years of study into taste and texture and mouthfeel and astringency and countless other factors that need to be taken into account with the subtlety of the human palette, to him, can't just be summed up into, "That's nice!"

She kisses him that night, relief in her heart.

Her reluctance to meet his alchemist friends does end up not being unfounded: Cadet Mustang, the roommate, quickly takes on that indulgent look that she is far too familiar with, and she subsequently ignores it with an insincere smile that tells him _exactly_ where he can stick his condescension, to his wide-eyed alarm and, later, sheepishness at his too-quick judgement.  Cadet Kimblee obviously immediately loses interest with a neutral, "Oh" the moment she explains her latest work into different kinds of draperies and the difficulties with transmuting Xingese silks.

Years later, Mustang will revise his opinion when she makes an "innocent" comment about a misinterpretation of his reading of Al-Kindi's foundational alchemic text, sparking a debate that leaves him slightly stunned with how thoroughly she has backed up her sources and Maes with veritable hearts in his eyes.  He will begin to make overtures of recruiting her into the State Alchemist program; Maes will always respond with a good amount of annoyance, and Gracia by refusing to help him with uniform and glove repair for several weeks.  But it will always be Maes who believes in her, really, truly, first, and though he will never have any idea of the true complexities of her workings, he will never underestimate her.

(When he gets down on one knee, years later, and breathes, "Gracia Reid Cunningham, will you marry me?", it's with a ring made from one of the first pieces of jewelry she transmuted, reworked and made even more beautiful, and she cries when she says yes.)

—

She meets Izumi Curtis after the promised day, after nearly dying with her daughter, with relief and victory starting to sing in her veins and her husband finally allowed to come home.  Though her life is finally starting to slot back into place, there is still more work to be done for others, and as soon as she is able, she is out on the street, Maes spending much-needed time with Elicia to make up for his time spent in hiding.

Gracia is aware of her audience as she draws the circle, specialized for classic Cretan architecture, which this building the most closely resembles.  Ignoring them, she begins the transmutation, feeling as everything settled perfectly into place, the building raising slowly with creaks and groans.  She slips into complete concentration, ignoring all other distractions, ensuring that every post, every stone, every splinter is set back into place, and where pieces are missing, she reinforces, creating anew.

When she finally steps back, wiping sweat from her brow, she smirks at the new building, incredibly proud.  In the half-hour it has taken to raise it, she has attracted quite a gathering, many of them gaping at her in awe.  It's a thrill that sends a flush to her face when she sees how impressed they are, giving her a recognition that she has always quietly craved, had thought she had received for those few moments with her parents over a decade ago and had been fleeting ever since.  She beams when they start to clap, lifting her chin and trying not to look _too_ pleased with herself.

"Holy shit, did Central _actually_ get a talented alchemist?"

She turns, eyebrows raising in surprise, to face the voice.  A woman stands there, multiple braids of black hair tied at the top of her head and tumbling down, a sharp look on her face, and a long, button down, sleeveless white duster-length vest.  And, when Gracia glances down, she spots the flamel symbol tattooed on her chest.

"While I don't think I'm the only one," she says with a soft laugh, "thank you very much.  I haven't used it this much in this capacity, but luckily, what I usually do translates well."

The woman nods firmly, a pleased smirk on her face.  "Sounds like you have sense.  And that's an _impressive_ array.  You come up with it yourself?"  The question isn't said in a condescending or accusatory fashion, or even disbelieving, but clearly an alchemist confirming that her suspicions are correct.  Gracia nods

"Izumi Curtis."  She sticks her hand out, and Gracia's eyes widen as she shakes, recognizing the name.  "You—you taught the Elrics!"

Izumi snorts, but Gracia can see the fondness in her eyes as she nods.  "That's me.  You know them?"

"Yes, they're wonderful boys."  She's charmed at the reluctance that Izumi shows towards showing affection, and especially at how bad she is at hiding it.  "I'm Gracia Hughes."

Izumi's eyes brighten at that.  "Hughes!  I know the name, I..."  She hesitates then, and clearly she's heard a version of events that would leave Gracia as one to be pitied.

"I'm sure you have," she cuts in brightly, trying to save the woman from her awkwardness.  "My husband, most likely; there are a lot of stories going around about that one.  If you'd like, when I'm finished with this street, we can grab a cup of tea and talk, if you have any questions?  Or we can discuss alchemy, if you'd rather.  There's a café nearby that's operating as usual."

Izumi nods, and they walk together, Gracia's arrays making short work of the rest of the street with Izumi's assistance.

—

Gracia had always wanted to speak with the Elric brothers about their arrayless transmutations, but she had always held back, reluctant to discover if they had the same kind of elitism so many other alchemists do.  A quick reassurance from Izumi, however—"I'd kick their _asses_ , they damn well better respect it"—and they're talking about it, Gracia suddenly with more knowledge at her fingers than she could have ever imagined possible, especially from an alchemist who is, as Gracia begins to realize, one of the most skilled in their country.

Though not without a price, she soon learns.

"I had no idea," she says, somewhat stunned, when she learned of the price required to gain that knowledge, what it meant that the alchemist in question had _done._  "That's not—I mean, you might be able to tell, my alchemy isn't really serious work like that."  And the words are bitter on her tongue as she says them, and while she knows she's expected to say the disclaimer as she has been hundreds of times before, she doesn't really believe them—or does she?  She's not sure anymore, not after repeating them for years.

"Ser— _serious?_ "  Izumi stares at her like she's just told her that she had _successfully_ performed human transmutation.  "You think your alchemy isn't serious?  Do you know how long it would have taken me to rebuild that building?"

"Not very long, I'd imagine."

"No, you're right.  But then it would have to be inspected for architectural soundness, and figure out what wasn't put back correctly, and there would need to be _plenty_ of work left to do on it, and in the end, it'd take me hours, if not days.  I took a look at that work: it's _plenty_ solid, and thorough, and if you think that I count as serious, well, look where it got me."

The last words take on a bitter tone; she has a feeling that Izumi doesn't share much, not to many people, but the words had come forth anyway after hours of conversation, and Gracia's sympathy had left a visible relief in Izumi's shoulders.  Gracia knows that she has that effect on people, and has always been careful to hold that trust close and honor it with her discretion and sincerity.

Izumi clears her throat.  "Anyway.  My point being is that I know that what you do takes a _hell_ of a lot of skill, and learning, and so maybe banquets and event planning and decorations won't change the world, but don't say it like it's a _bad_ thing."  Izumi makes a sweeping gesture at a pile of rubble streets down.  "This is what happens when people decide they want to change the world, and it's people like you who make the world worth living in the way it is now."

Gracia thinks to herself that she's far too old to be blushing like this, but Izumi's proud words leave her breathless and _proud_ in a way that she hasn't felt in a very, very long time.

"Also, you know, you have a hell of a finesse and control that most alchemists only ever _dream_ of developing, so there's that."

Izumi's wry tone has Gracia laughing, which sends Izumi into giggles as well the relief from the tension of the past several months washing out between them.

—

Izumi and Gracia have more than alchemy in common, Gracia discovers, as they get to know each other.  She's only human, after all, and hearing that Izumi and her husband have something of an open marriage policy as well?  She would have to be some kind of idiot not to express a mild interest.  And when Izumi expresses it back with a bit of a flirtatious smile, it's only a matter of talking to Maes.

Maes, of course, is thrilled.

"That's great!" he says, beaming, when she tells him about Izumi.  It's been quite some time since the two of them had met a couple that they felt comfortable exploring such things with, and that had only been temporary.  She and Maes have talked about possibly starting to look again, but with everything that has happened, it hasn't been much of a priority until the opportunity fell into their laps.  Maes will like Izumi, she's sure, and she is proven correct when the two of them come over for dinner—and, as an added bonus, Maes and Sieg hit it off as well.  Not in the same way as Izumi and Gracia had, not really, but the two of them seem very pleased with the situation, and when Gracia glances over at Izumi to see that her own muted excitement is matched just as much, she thinks this might very well be something that could last.

—

When Izumi finally kisses her, after discussions and agreements and making very, very sure that everyone is pleased with the situation, the kiss tastes like lightning and alchemy, a chemical reaction that sparks something she had never known could be mutual.

—

Having Izumi as a partner, she quickly learns, opens her up for so much more.  Maes will always be the love of her life, her backbone and support the same way that she is his, but Izumi brings something to the table that he never could.  Though she would never say anything had been lacking, sharing a relationship with someone who understands alchemy and the way it utterly draws you in can bring two hearts together in a fascinating, thrilling way, she learns.

It's a challenge, of course—but then Izumi challenges her as well, which is something she's never encountered, not in a way that's actually _good_ for her.  Having someone around who not only respects her alchemy but truly understands the effort she puts into it is pure bliss.  Izumi points out that Gracia has gotten complacent, and Gracia realizes that long before she met Izumi, she had stopped challenging herself the way that she used to.  It’s all become rather rote, her alchemy, transmutations she’s done dozens of times before, and it hadn’t been until after the Promised Day that she had stepped outside that comfort zone.  Izumi takes the momentum from the cleanup and pushes Gracia towards what she has always _wanted_ to do.

In return, Gracia teaches Izumi tricks and techniques she's developed herself, and learns that many are apparently on par with what her father would have called "real" alchemists would have used, and some are even better.  Izumi doesn't seem surprised, and she tries not to be, but it's like a ray of sunshine bursting into her life, a validation that finally, _finally_ washes away the last remnants of doubt in her ability.

And it is more than alchemy as well: Izumi's health comes and goes, and Gracia has always had a need to help whenever she can.  It isn't limited to just the physical, either; when Gracia tells Izumi that she is pregnant with her and Maes's second child and she's looking forward to raising it with the four of them, as a family, the look on Izumi's face makes her so happy that she cries.

And Izumi needs that family; like Gracia, it isn't that Sieg isn't enough, and he never will not be, but to have three people to turn to, when you need to be strong for others but are just so _tired_ , can be the difference between emotional victory and defeat.

—

"They named a society after me.  A _society,_ can you believe that?"

Though Izumi's voice is filled with irritation, Gracia knows her well enough by now to be able to detect the pride as well.  "After you _and_ their father, from what I've heard."

"Even worse!  Like I want to share a name with him, or be a part of some pretentious alchemical—"

"It's the first significant non-military alchemical society in Amestris's history!" Gracia interrupts, unable to keep from laughing.  It's not typical marketplace conversation, and it's that precise fact that causes her to enjoy it so much.  "I'd say that it's an honor, regardless of the level of pretentiousness!"

Izumi sighs heavily, rolling her eyes, then shakes her head.  Gracia just squeezes her hand fondly.

"So, you'll be a founding member, right?"

Gracia freezes in the midst of picking through apples for her cake.  "Sorry?"

"The Elric boys _begged_ you to run their opening benefit event.  Surely you've got what's got to amount to a handwritten invitation to be one of the first alchemists to join this thing."

Gracia hesitates, shaking her head.  The uncertainty is still there, even after these years.  She wonders, sometimes, if it will ever go away, even now that her life is filled with support and affection from those who _believe_ in this aspect of her life.  "I'm... not sure if..."

And then Izumi tugs her hand, whirling her to face her, and Gracia is faced with the intensity that she fell in love with some time ago, a fiery passion that still left her breathless.

"Listen to me, Gracia.  You're good enough.  I _know_ you're good enough, and so do you.  And this?  This is going to be the best opportunity you ever get to prove it to everyone who doubted you, to rub it in all their faces.  Including Mustang's."

Gracia let out a choking snort of laughter at that one: Roy Mustang had only attempted to recruit her for the State Alchemist program once after Izumi had come into their lives.  Just once, and unfortunately for him, he had done so within Izumi's earshot.  Elicia still told gleeful stories about the terrified expression on his face when people confided to their family that Roy was "an incredibly intimidating and serious general."

Gracia raises an eyebrow, a knowing expression on her face that can't quite mask the mischief at affixing Izumi with the "mom face."  "Is that what all of this is about?" she asks, tone gently chiding, but Izumi knows better.

"I just think it would be good for you," she scoffs, lifting her chin self-righteously.  "Somewhere that you can still be _you_ , without criticism.  Someplace that will take you seriously.  Any ability to rub in the faces of the military is just a bonus."

"Mm, of course it is."  Gracia smirked slightly and shot Izumi a flirtatious look before going back to her apples.

Izumi, of course, pulled her back, dipping her into a quick kiss before she did.

—

"Nice to meet you, Gracia.  My name is Lisbeth Aquinas.  This is my brother, Tom."

"You as well."  Gracia smiles warmly at the girl and boy; she can't be more than seventeen or so, and Tom maybe a year or two under that.  They sometimes get younger visitors to the Curtis-Hohenheim Alchemical Advancement and Study Society events, but it's a rare occurrence.  "So you two have an interest in alchemy?  I'd love to talk about it with you.  Do you have any kind of specialty that either of you enjoy?  My daughter's almost your age, and she can't make up her mind for the life of her."  True, that likely comes from studying under Edward Elric, but as a mother, she tries to be supportive.

"Your daughter does alchemy, too?"  Lisbeth's face lights up visibly, and she bounces a little, clearly excited, then hesitates.  "Actually, yeah, I mean, I sort of have something I like to do, but... well, I mentioned it, one of the founders said to talk to you?  About cooking alchemy?"

Gracia can see the expression on their faces as they exchange a look, the uncertainty, the preparation to be dismissed for coming to such a prestigious organization with such frivolous interests.  Though Gracia has tried hard over the years to reduce the stigma of such things, it seems that they still lurk in corners, waiting to drown a young man and woman in doubt, make her worry that she isn't "real" enough of an alchemist.

"Yes!" Gracia responds brightly, her excitement genuine.  "As a matter of fact, I've been doing the food for these events since the Elrics founded it.  Would you like to tell me what you've been studying?  Then, if you'd like, I can show you what I've done for this meal."

Lisbeth and Tom's hesitant expressions fade almost instantaneously to be replaced by beaming smiles.  "Yes!” Tom exclaims, at the same time as Lisbeth’s, “Yes, I'd love that!"

As Gracia leads Lisbeth towards the tables full of food, she lifts her head to see that Izumi is already watching her.  When Gracia catches her eye, she winks, smiles, and turns to walk away.


End file.
